


Bittersweet Melody

by ezazahaz



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Music, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), really most of my Bucky fics should have that tag, sad but hopeful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8215412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezazahaz/pseuds/ezazahaz
Summary: When the elevator doors opened, instead of the dead-of-night silence he’d been expecting, Tony heard music. It wasn’t a recording.  Someone was playing the piano.





	

~~~

It was after three in the morning when Tony left his workshop--not unusual for him, but late enough he expected everyone else to be already asleep. Feeling peckish, he decided to stop by the kitchen on the common floor to grab a quick snack before bed.

When the elevator doors opened, instead of the dead-of-night silence he’d been expecting, Tony heard music.

It wasn’t a recording. Someone was playing the piano.

~~~

Though he didn’t really play, Tony had never lived anywhere without a piano. Even his vacation homes had them. After he’d accidentally destroyed the one in Malibu, which only Obie had played, he’d bought another. (Of course, that one was destroyed as well, when he gave the Mandarin his home address.) Because while he didn’t want to be reminded of Obie, his strongest association with the piano was his mother.

When Tony was a child, he’d plunked out a simple melody here and there, but his dad always encouraged him to apply himself to his more intellectual capabilities. Maybe some of the reason was that Tony’s playing, though moderately impressive for having received no formal lessons, had been nowhere near as pleasing to listen to as his mother’s.

Young Tony didn’t mind; he’d known he’d never be as good at it as his mom (though he’d known he’d never be as mechanically skilled as his dad, and Tony was now sure and a little vindictively proud that he’d surpassed his old man). He’d enjoyed just listening to her play.

He would sit on the floor by the bench, or lay on the couch, and let the music flow over him, peaceful, soothing. When he’d just had a fight with dad, or been bullied at school, his mother’s music would make everything better.

~~~

And now he was hearing that beautiful music again. He didn’t remember the name of the piece, but it was familiar, a particularly emotional, haunting melody that had sometimes made him tear up even when he hadn’t been upset.

Tony felt almost as if he were floating toward the sound, barely breathing for fear of interrupting the music.

Then he turned the corner and saw who was playing. He inhaled sharply before he could stop himself.

The sudden cessation of sound was almost painful, and he let out a quiet whimper of protest.

On the bench, Barnes swiveled to look at him, surprise and apology written all over his face.

~~~

Tony got along better with Barnes these days. Not that there was anywhere to go _but_ better, after trying to kill him in Siberia.

When he’d had time to think, when the horrible images weren’t so fresh, Tony had eventually accepted that he couldn’t hold Barnes accountable for what Hydra had made him do while he was brainwashed. Tony had even forgiven Steve for keeping the information from him, and invited both men (as well as all the other Avengers) to live in the Tower after the Accords had been dismissed.

There was still discomfort between them, though. Tony was never quite able to relax when Barnes was in the room. He didn’t know if the man’s constant looks of remorse made it better or worse.

~~~

Right now, Tony knew he didn’t want to see that look, didn’t want to hear another apology.

“‘m sorry, should’ve asked. JARVIS didn’t say no, but I still should’a--” Barnes mumbled.

“Keep playing,” Tony said, not sure if it came out more as a command or a plea.

Barnes’ bright blue-grey eyes widened. “What?”

“It reminds me of my mom.” The words came out automatically, even as Tony realized it was the wrong thing to say.

Barnes froze, fear and horror in his eyes. He started shaking his head. “Oh God, I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I’m--”

“Please,” Tony interrupted the desperate stream of words. “I don’t care, I really--I just want you to keep playing. Please.”

Shocked into silence, Barnes stared at him for another moment, then nodded and slowly turned back to the piano.

The music resumed, and Tony suddenly felt like he could breath again.

He leaned against the nearest wall, closed his eyes, and slid to the floor. There he relaxed, breathing in the beauty of the music, basking in its warmth, losing himself in its wordless emotion.

He swallowed hard as he realized that, while Barnes had taken his mom from him, he’d also, in a way, given him back a piece of her.

Tears slid down his cheeks as he let the music soothe his soul.

~~~

Well I never pray  
But tonight I'm on my knees yeah  
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah  
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now  
But the airways are clean and there's nobody singing to me now

from _Bitter Sweet Symphony _by The Verve (which is likely now stuck in your head, sorry)__


End file.
